


Elusive Currents

by Queen of the Castle (queen_of_the_castle_77)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, F/M, M/M, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_of_the_castle_77/pseuds/Queen%20of%20the%20Castle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the Chancellor’s voice still caressing him and the Force itself clearly dancing between them, there’s an undercurrent of pure seduction at play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elusive Currents

**Author's Note:**

> Written for philstar22 for fandom_stocking 2011. Set not long before ‘Revenge of the Sith’.

Anakin closes his eyes and lets the sound of the Chancellor’s voice wash over him. There’s something beyond soothing about Palpatine’s absolute faith in Anakin and the way that he’s not afraid to actually express it. It’s the perfect counterpoint to the palpable distrust and jealousy that he _knows_ Obi-Wan and the Council feel, whatever they might try to pretend.

The lull of it isn’t quite broken when a hand comes to rest on his non-mechanical arm, but Anakin’s eyes do spring open, stunned. It’s not that the sudden contact is so shocking for its own sake. Palpatine has bestowed paternal pats or even the occasional thankful or supportive squeeze on him many times before. But this...

He could almost swear that this is something very different.

His eyes firmly inform him that the very air surrounding him is the only thing that could possibly be sliding up his arm, sweeping down his chest, dipping low and making him have to hide a shudder at the stirring of strangely pleasurable sensations; Palpatine’s hand is, after all, still more or less stationary on his forearm, and his other hand is resting in plain sight on the table. Every other sense, however, informs Anakin that his eyes are deceiving him and that he’s being somehow affected in a way far more intimate than he should be comfortable with. It’s not quite as obvious or unabashedly physical as the way Padmé’s soft fingertips or mouth often trail teasingly over him, making his breathing shorter than usual and wordlessly promising to eventually unravel him completely. Yet Anakin finds it difficult to deny that, with the Chancellor’s voice still caressing him and the Force itself clearly dancing between them, there’s an undercurrent of pure seduction at play.

Anakin thinks to try to jerk away – to find a way to immediately protect himself from it – but for some reason he remains still and allows the sensations to linger. Perhaps it’s because he’s not entirely certain that breaking free is what he actually wants. It feels strangely right, as though Anakin is being guided towards something that is meant to be. Even before he even really understood what the Force was, and even when he _hated_ what the Force allowed to occur (he still dreams of his mother’s screams and feels that burning hatred sparking inside him), though his faith in many things has been shaken throughout, his belief in the will of the Force has barely wavered at all. It’s been his only true constant, and he can see no reason to start doubting it now.

Watching the circling motion of Palpatine’s thumb against the sleeve of his tunic (and feeling the touch keenly, as though there are no layers of material separating the two of them), Anakin has a sudden premonition of things to come, though it’s far too fleeting and vague for the meaning to be properly within his grasp. All he can tell with any certainty is that he’ll feel this peculiar draw in the future, and that it will be stronger still when he encounters it again.

Palpatine apparently feels Anakin shivering slightly at that concept, for his hand finally falls away. He shows nothing but benevolence and concern, just as he has all along, so that Anakin can’t be sure that the rest of it wasn’t merely some false wandering of his own exhausted mind. The tangible feeling of being somehow lured in fades as if it never existed in the first place.

Before Anakin can question whether Palpatine has any idea what it is that has so deeply affected Anakin, they’re interrupted by some kind of urgent Senate business. Obi-Wan would undoubtedly suggest that Anakin should take the disruption as an excuse (though he’s far too diplomatic to ever use that particular word) to retreat and spend some time meditating on this strange occurrence. Anakin, however, doesn’t look forward to that prospect any more now than he did as a very young Padawan whose Master kept sighing over his new apprentice’s lack of focus and inability to remain still. For that reason (among others, of course), Anakin would by far prefer to go and find Padmé. Just her presence has always been able to ground him better than any mere meditation.

But the Chancellor chooses that moment to invite Anakin to wait outside until the meeting has concluded, coincidentally preventing him from trying to centre himself, and also from tracking down Padmé and spending some much-needed time alone with her. Despite this, Anakin finds himself nodding his agreement and thanking the Chancellor, bowing respectfully as he leaves the room.

Palpatine watches him closely as he walks away. The tiniest shadow of a smirk plays at the Chancellor’s lips all the while, and tiny sparks that could be mistaken for swirls of dust streak back and forward between his fingers as he drums them contemplatively against the spot on the desk where Anakin’s own hand had been resting just moments ago.

Anakin, facing in the opposite direction, doesn’t see any of it.

In the brief second when he actually crosses the threshold, Anakin feels the slightest echo of the sensations he remembers from earlier, as if they’re tugging at him, reminding him. He swings around to look back, as though expecting to see something physical right there pulling at him, but the electronics slide the door closed in his face and his view in that direction is abruptly shut off. He frowns and silently chastises himself, telling himself that he’s only been imagining things. He’s just _so_ tired (he can’t remember the last time he slept properly, between the war and the dreams), and he’s feeling a little disconcerted at having his time with the Chancellor cut short so abruptly. It’s just as well that he’ll be waiting right there so that he can see him again soon.

As he waits, he falls not into mediation, but into memories of how the Chancellor had proclaimed him the strongest Jedi in history. His apprehension is forgotten, and Anakin smiles. He looks forward to hearing the Chancellor praise him again later.

A tentative string of the Force, dark and elusive, tightens its grip ever so slightly, and Anakin Skywalker doesn’t notice a thing.


End file.
